


Final Breath

by Finality (KindaMoody), KindaMoody



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Crisis of Faith, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Fighting, Fluff, Gen, Grief, Intrigue, Loss of Faith, M/M, More tags to be added as story progresses, Multi, Murder, Mystery, Religion, Suicide, War, no canon characters will be mentioned, possible scenes of abuse, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-07-31 15:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20117440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindaMoody/pseuds/Finality, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindaMoody/pseuds/KindaMoody
Summary: A string of murders that look like suicides bring up the question of what does and doesn't stop one from going to StarClan, and while several believe them to be acts of war from foes, some instead internalize their conflicts and turn on each other.The Clans must solve the murders, or are they just suicides... And if there was foul play, why wouldn't StarClan have spoken up by now?





	1. Prologue

Dark paws dug sharp claws into the mud, and light rain slowly filled the gouges. The dark-furred she-cat had narrowed eyes and was watching the treeline ahead of her across the bubbly stream that made their border. A red tom was crouched next to her, his ears flattened to his skull and amber eyes wide with anxiety and despair. Birds were singing happily in the trees despite the drizzle, she could hear them from here. The sun, visible sometimes through the fluffy silver clouds, was beginning its descent, and warmth clung to the tips of her whiskers like dew.

"What if-"

The leader silenced him by baring her teeth, a wordless warning. The rain was stopping and there was no breeze―had been no breeze for a quarter moon it felt like―but the grass behind them was swaying gently. Ever since greenleaf had settled in, the air had begun to feel heavy and wet even in the coolest midnight hours. The lake was on their left, and a small tree sat on the ThunderClan side. Further into the foreign territory, the treeline's shadows finally gave view to four cats: a silver tabby, a small ginger tabby, a pale brown she-cat, and slower behind them, a cream-furred she-cat. Deerstar resettled herself, rolled her shoulders, and prepared herself for what was to come of this impromptu meeting. Eveningpelt bounded towards her familiar moorland and leapt the stream past her Clanmates with ears flattened.

The tom led the other two cats to the edge of the stream at a trot and spoke over the backdrop of pleasant noise. "Deerstar."

"Sunstar." Deerstar dipped her head to the tom, very pointedly let her gaze fall on his tan-furred deputy, and then shifted to the pretty medicine cat. "Hopheart."

Sunstar opened his mouth but his deputy snapped, "Why are we here? It'll start raining again soon. Couldn't this wait until the next Gathering?"

Deerstar met the she-cat's gaze with no emotion being betrayed, which made the she-cat bristle, and then looked at Sunstar. "I'd rather never see any of you outside of Gatherings, that's true, but WindClan has urgent news that I needed Hopheart to know." With that, she turned her eyes to the medicine cat and they finally showed feeling: a hint of anxiety and grief. Behind her, Waspclaw and Eveningpelt were pressed into each other for comfort.

Her pelt was ruffled but her amber eyes were steady as Hopheart met Deerstar's yellow eyes, and her voice was the sound of small pebbles grinding together underpaw. "I thought Mintpelt would be here too."

The rain quietly continued its pattering once again as Deerstar lowered her gaze to her paws and the scores she'd made in the softened earth.

― ― ―

The white tom was sorting through a pile of leaves and flowers when a black she-cat pushed into the den. "Mallowface?" He lifted his head to her and smiled.

After the queen, tumbled two she-kits, a pretty white fuzz with striking blue eyes, and a black-and-white one that looked more confident on her paws than any kit had a right to be at her age. Mallowface's eyes softened though his smile turned sad for only a heartbeat. "Sweetkit, Softkit, Nightbriar, good morning."

Nightbriar touched her nose gently to the tom's cheek and mewed, quietly, "She hears less and less every dawn..." The black she-cat's tailtip curled in frustration, her claws digging into the den's moss-covered stone floor.

Mallowface's green eyes fell on Sweetkit as she and her sister tumbled with each other around the den. His fluffy tail shielded his herbs from them and one of his broad white paws gently scooped the white female's body closer to him. He crouched and touched his nose to hers. "Hello."

"Hi." Sweet's smile melted his heart and he couldn't help his purr. Her voice was flat and sounded forced but still quiet. "Mellow," She continued as she touched her nose to his, pressing both tiny paws on his cheeks and then pressing her forehead to his. "Mellow." She dragged his name out without a hint of musicality. She was used to what he asked of her and thought it was a dumb game. She didn't seem to notice she wasn't saying it correctly, but that had begun several dawns ago.

He let his gaze lift to Nightbriar and nodded. He nudged Sweetkit back to her sister and felt stones settle in his belly.

She wasn't responding to her mother saying her name.

"Softkit, why don't you and Sweetkit go play outside?" He mewed.

The bundle of energy that was the black-and-white kitten leaped over her sister, "Puddle-pouncing!" Sweetkit heard it and got so excited that she took off, Softkit hard on her heels. Early-onset deafness was not affecting the kit's confidence yet, and he hoped it never would. There was silence in the den for a long moment before the tom took a slow breath. The scent of herbs was comforting most often, but this morning, it did nothing but remind him that this wasn't something daffodils and poppy seeds could fix. StarClan had been so quiet recently that he'd started to search for signs of them every moment he was awake. Did the glimmer in Fennelpelt's eyes mean StarClan was watching? When Briarfur caught that mouse the evening before, and boasted it had run straight into his paws, did that mean that Mallowface was missing the obvious? He flicked his ear to brush the thoughts away.

"I see what you mean, but there's nothing else I can do, Briar." The queen rolled her eyes.

"It's _Night_briar now, Mallowface." Her tone was playful for only a second but then she sighed and her worry was evidently back. "She'll be completely deaf by next moon, right? What will that mean for her? The other warriors are noticing and I overheard Dovethroat and Cootstone talking about which one they'd rather mentor and they both insisted against Sweet." Silence fell between them as she pressed into his chest for comfort.

Mallowface glanced up as Heatherpaw and Goldentail both entered the den and the black she-cat took a step back. It was now very crowded but the medicine cat simply turned to his herbs and mewed, "Yes? Are you both here to run errands for me or is today just not lucky enough yet?"

The apprentice mrowed her laughter and disappeared back out into the camp but Goldentail coughed. He glanced at her sheepish expression and then quickly picked out a fuzzy yellow flower. "This'll help get rid of your cough for good." He eyed her and his whiskers twitched. "You're not pregnant are you?"

The green-eyed golden tabby laughed and shook her head as she crouched over the tansy. "No! Prey has been running well is all."

When he ushered the warrior back out of his den, he noticed that Nightbriar had slipped out as well. He felt a sting of sympathy; the queen had yet to find her place among the Clan, and though the others accepted the kits well enough, they tended to ignore the black she-cat, by design or accident. And now that Sweetkit was showing signs of an ailment, there was bound to be talk of it.

He returned his attention to his herbs and the morning slowly drifted by, his thoughts filled with how to best suggest to Mudstar where Sweetkit could be most useful to the Clan. He didn't want to make Nightbriar feel as though they were treating Sweetkit like she could only be useful picking flowers, an ordeal that the loner had strictly forbidden against unless Sweetkit decided it herself. And from the way the sisters were playfighting, the kit would be a dedicated RiverClan warrior.

He was taking his first steps out of his den that day just as Hopheart was being escorted into camp with her apprentice, Whitepaw, and ShadowClan's Lampreypelt, by Briarfur, Fennelpelt, and Fogpaw. Mallowface trotted to them and touched a nose to the russet-furred tom's. Whitepaw seemed agitated and his tail was twitching. The patrol hung around at a respectful distance able to hear but giving them some space. None went to find Mudstar, as the leader always went swimming with Dovethroat this time of day. It puzzled the white tom that the other medicine cats came all the way into the camp, meaning they had to have gotten their paws wet.

"What brings you here this sun-high?" He asked, turning back towards his den, offering the privacy there, but Hopheart shook her head and he finally noticed there was no urgency, a lack thereof really, just sadness in the ThunderClan medicine cat's eyes. "What's wrong? Has StarClan sent a sign?"

"It's Mintpelt." Whitepaw spoke for his mentor, the tom crouched suddenly like he was about to pounce on Mallowface, and his tail was lashing. "StarClan has been nothing but silent, and Mintpelt is dead."


	2. Allegiances

**T H U N D E R C L A N**

LEADER:

**SUNSTAR**―small ginger tabby tom

DEPUTY:

**FALLOWFUR**―slender pale brown she-cat

MEDICINE CAT:

**HOPHEART**―pale brown she-cat with broad white paws _(Apprentice, Whitepaw)_

WARRIORS:

**PIGEONPELT**―short-furred grey tom with yellow eyes

**STARLINGTHROAT**―curly-haired black spotted tabby tom with amber eyes _(Apprentice, Firepaw)_

**MISTSTONE**―dark-grey- and-white she-cat with hazel eyes

**SOOTPELT**―black she-cat with amber eyes _(Apprentice, Frostpaw)_

**BLACKBLAZE**―black mackerel tabby tom with golden eyes

APPRENTICES:

**WHITEPAW**―white tom with green eyes

**FROSTPAW**―white tom with yellow eyes

**FIREPAW**―white she-cat with orange tabby patches and green eyes

**W I N D C L A N**

LEADER:

**DEERSTAR** ―dark brown she-cat with yellow eyes _(Apprentice, Yellowpaw)_

DEPUTY:

**WASPCLAW―**red tom with amber eyes

MEDICINE CAT:

**MINTPELT―**soft-furred grey-and-white tom with blue eyes

WARRIORS:

**HORNETSTRIPE―**cream mackerel tabby she-cat with golden eyes

**EVENINGPELT―** silver tabby she-cat with hazel eyes _(Apprentice, Thriftpaw)_

**LILYNOSE―** white she-cat with amber eyes _(Apprentice, Juniperpaw)_

**SHADOWCLAW―** black she-cat with yellow eyes _(Apprentice, Marigoldpaw)_

**HEATHERFACE**―ginger tom with copper eyes

APPRENTICES:

**MARIGOLDPAW**―red tabby tom with green eyes

**THRIFTPAW**―cream tabby tom with golden eyes

**JUNIPERPAW―**light brown she-cat with amber eyes

**YELLOWPAW―**red ticked tabby tom with amber eyes

**S H A D O W C L A N**

LEADER:

**ROOKSTAR**―black she-cat with green eyes

DEPUTY:

**SPIDERFOOT** ―long-furred black spotted tabby she-cat with hazel eyes _(Apprentice, Nightpaw)_

MEDICINE CAT:

**LAMPREYPELT**―long-furred cinnamon tabby tom with copper eyes

WARRIORS:

**ROWANBERRY** ―red mackerel tabby tom with green eyes _(Apprentice, Darkpaw)_

**LAVENDERCLAW**―grey tom with golden eyes

**DAFFODILCLAW**―cream-spotted white she-cat with copper eyes

**REDTHROAT**―dark red tabby she-cat with golden eyes and white chest

APPRENTICES:

**NIGHTPAW**―long-furred black spotted tabby tom with golden eyes

**DARKPAW**―black she-cat with green eyes

QUEENS:

**RUSSETTAIL**―red tabby she-cat with yellow eyes

**SLUGWHISKER**―black tabby she-cat with hazel eyes

KITS:

**WILDKIT**―orange-and-white tabby tom

**TALLKIT**―dark brown tabby tom

**FLOWERKIT**―black-and-white she-cat

**FROGKIT**―black-and-white tom

ELDERS:

**SILVERCLOUD**―silver mackerel tabby tom with golden eyes

**MINKSTORM**―lilac she-cat with yellow eyes

**POPPYSTREAM**―short-furred red spotted tabby she-cat with amber eyes

**R I V E R C L A N**

LEADER:

**MUDSTAR**―brown-and-white tabby tom with blue eyes

DEPUTY:

**BRIARFUR**―dark tortoiseshell tom with amber eyes

MEDICINE CAT:

**MALLOWFACE**―white tom with green eyes

WARRIORS:

**FENNELPELT** ―long-furred red tabby she-cat with hazel eyes _(Apprentice, Fogpaw)_

**SQUIRRELFANG** ―black-and-red tortoiseshell she-cat with copper eyes _(Apprentice, Blackpaw)_

**SHADOWNOSE**―black tom with white markings on his muzzle with yellow eyes

**GOLDENTAIL** ―light gold tabby she-cat with green eyes _(Apprentice, Heatherpaw)_

**COOTSTONE**―black, red, and white she-cat with amber eyes

**DOVETHROAT**―grey tabby she-cat with blue eyes

**SKIPSTEP**―red tabby tom with amber eyes

APPRENTICES:

**HEATHERPAW**―blue-and-cream tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes

**BLACKPAW**―black tom with green eyes

**FOGPAW**―light grey tabby she-cat with a white chest, paws, and tailtip with hazel eyes

QUEENS:

**NIGHTBRIAR**―black tabby she-cat with blue eyes

KITS:

**SWEETKIT**―deaf white she-cat with blue eyes

**SOFTKIT**―black she-cat with a white chest and muzzle

**L O N E R S and K I T T Y P E T S and R O G U E S**

KITTYPETS:

**KITTY**―white she-cat with orange patches and grey tabby tail


	3. Chapter One

Dawn came faster and faster every morning, and Kitty was already begging to be let out of the sliding door. The loud-woman was yawning and holding her hot, strong-scented bitter as she slid the clear door open. Kitty shot out and leaped onto the fence with a loud meow goodbye, waving her tail even though the twoleg had disappeared into the den already.

The she-cat paused at a few densites to see if her friends might be out yet. They usually never were, she always came by too early nowadays. It was no different this morning, and she reached the pine forest without saying hi to anyone. She trotted happily past the scent markers, and her ears flicked with amusement. She paused and tasted the air, just as Redthroat had taught her, and found the warm smell of mouse. _Better than frog_, she shrugged and purred a smile.

Dropping into a crouch, she brushed slowly towards the scent and lifted her head over a small mound of pine needles and eyed the tiny grey body, almost facing her. If she caught it, she could brag about it for a quarter-moon. Wiggling her haunches, she was about to pounce when a bird whistled nearby, and she froze, watching the mouse look around. Her breath was still in her throat; if it ran off, she’d give chase, her favourite past-time. It didn’t though, it resumed its nibbling on a seed, and she wiggled, readying herself, and then pounced. Her paws landed, soft as a new leaf, on top of the small body, and it shot away from her. Laughing, she pursued and swatted it sideways, hooking it with her claws. She sunk her teeth into its neck and purred.

“You thank StarClan now.” The purr came from behind her and Kitty stood with the mouse between her paws. She beamed at the red tabby.

“Thank StarClan for this wonderful prey that I’m not allowed to eat.” The two she-cats touched noses and rubbed cheeks. “Good morning, Redthroat. What’s the plan for today, more hunting and then maybe smelling the air from sunhigh to set?”

“Actually,” The warrior rolled her eyes with a smile and a shake of her head. “Rookstar has finally given me to permission to train you in battle moves, so are you interested in that?”

Kitty planted both forepaws on Redthroat’s shoulders and pushed. “Absolutely! You’ll never win against me! I’m the baddest kittypet this whole forest has ever-“ she was cut off as Redthroat pushed up with a play-snarl and knocked Kitty off-balance. The white she-cat would have twisted sideways, but the ginger tabby sunk her teeth gently into Kitty’s throat fur, and planted the kittypet on her back. The two were laughing as the white she-cat pushed at the tabby’s belly with soft paws.

“Get off me, you weigh heavier than a stone!”

― ― ―

“Here, Kitty-Kitty!” The twoleg’s yowl could be heard in the ShadowClan camp, the white she-cat was certain. “Here, Kitty-Kitty! Here,” the sound of kibble rattling in a clear-stone finally had the weary feline pushing up to her paws and slipping out from under the flowering bush where’d she’d been resting for only a couple heartbeats with a purr. She twisted around the woman’s legs whilst meowing, “You’re so loud, you must think I can’t hear you, silly. I have ears, I promise.” She flicked them as she leaped onto a soft-bottomed chair, onto the hard slab of stone that looked like wood, and then across the space to the ledge that looked like stone melted into water and hardened again, where her food bowl sat. Below her, the two canines were wagging their tails and watching the twoleg prepare their dinners.

“Hey flea-brain and sir bouncy,” she mrowed smugly. She was always fed first around here. The loud-woman was trained well. The dogs paid the cat no mind though and watched and waited as they always did.

The clear, sliding door was still open, letting the cool breeze drift through from the outside evening night, and Kitty sat up and took in a deep breath. Redthroat had stressed the importance of learning how to read the air around her, and Kitty was sure that she was getting really good at it. She could smell the flowers apart from the kibble-scent now, and she’d recently noticed that the two dogs had separate smells as well, where she’d once believed they were one and the same. Kitty smiled at herself as she crouched back down to enjoy the last few bites of her crunchy dinner. She preferred this over fresh-kill still, though Redthroat always made faces when Kitty mentioned it; mouse and frog just had nothing against the sweet, savory flavour, and there was way more crunch in the kibble with less worry of a bone getting stuck in her throat.

When she was done, she leaped down onto the white stone floor between the dogs and twined herself around their legs to the human, asking with meows and purrs for a petting. She would miss this woman, she knew, but Redthroat insisted that if Kitty wanted to be serious about being a ShadowClan cat, she’d have to start spending nights away from the twolegplace, and eventually never return.

As the woman settled on the big soft tan chair in the open-spaced relaxing room of the small den, Kitty curled up in her lap. One dog, the black and white one called Maizy, stretched out on the floor next to the chair, while the red and tan one called Ruger wandered in the yard outside. It was so peaceful and calm here, Kitty questioned if she’d be able to leave this world behind, but then she thought of the tabby with the golden, sunset eyes and smiled.

She would be ready in a heartbeat for Redthroat, she knew. ShadowClan may never be home without Maizy and Ruger and the loud-woman, but she’d make do if it meant being beside the warrior.

― ― ―

Deerstar was seated in the center of the camp, her small but proud Clan huddled close together. There was such a quiet that the brown she-cat worried it would never lift, as if when Mintpelt died, he took their voice. The sun was high in the sky, the second dawn since she’d walked in to find her close friend still and chilled in his nest.

Her eyes screwed shut as she forced herself to take a slow, deep breath. She could feel her chest expanding and grief clenched like a killing bite on her heart. The grey-and-white tom had been stretched out in his nest, claws extended, mouth open, and eyes closed. She could fool herself that he had died in his sleep. She remembered yowling for Waspclaw, doing the only thing she had ever learned from Mintpelt: planting both paws on his ribs and trying to pump his lungs back to life. But he was cold, and he was gone, and the whole Clan had heard her grieving. Her pain had turned into caterwauling and she’d wanted to do nothing but shove out of the camp and leave it all behind, but her paws had turned to stone. Her world had been so peaceful, the biggest concern being border disputes that ended as quickly as they began.

_I give you this life so you may draw peace even in the hardest of times_, Deerstar could almost feel her father’s breath on her cheek, and the achingly warm calm that he’d given her. Opening her eyes, the she-cat once again studied her Clan. They were all lost in their own thoughts, she wasn’t concerned if they’d been watching her. Hornetstripe was crouched between the four newly-made apprentices, and Deerstar wondered which of the four would be most like her. Her apprentice, Yellowpaw, had his nose buried in his sister’s shoulder. The other four warriors and Waspclaw were crouched near enough to each other to offer support without touching. Deerstar drew subconscious pride that all of her cats were well-fed, sleek-pelted, and not a cough or even minor injury to be seen.

Pulling herself together and out of her head, the leader’s tailtip twitched. “I know this is hard. This is a situation that has never happened before. But,” She met every gaze that had lifted to listen to her, “We _will_ survive the next moons. StarClan will never give us a challenge that we cannot overcome, and Mintpelt may not have had an apprentice but I’d like to know if any of our new four, or maybe one of our warriors, would like to step up and take the role.”

There was no response, as she’d known there wouldn’t be. Even if Marigoldpaw and Juniperpaw were aptly named, neither had been gifted by StarClan.

“What are we supposed to do, Deerstar?” Lilynose has spoken, her voice so quiet that the white warrior might as well have whispered. Waspclaw rasped his tongue over his mate’s ear, though his fur was rippling with anxiety as well.

The red tom stood and mewed, “StarClan will guide us to the right choice, and Hopheart and Mallowface have both agreed to keep Mintpelt’s herbs stocked and take on his duties themselves until we find a-“ He took a heavy breath when his voice, which had remained strong and steady a second before, broke.

“Until we find a medicine cat worthy of Mintpelt’s pawsteps.” Deerstar dipped her head to her deputy as she finished his sentence. He was in agony over losing his lifelong friend, but had to be strong for his Clan and his mate. “This means that our borders are now open to those two medicine cats to cross freely, and they’re allowed to roam. However, they mustn’t hunt, though I doubt they would.” Her Clan was nodding, finding comfort that they wouldn’t be abandoned to heal their own wounds with nameless herbs and without guidance.

Deerstar felt her pelt ripple with unease though, her eyes trailing unbidden to the medicine cat den, her thoughts still trying to make sense of the red berries that the medicine cat had had littered around his muzzle.

― ― ―

It was a small Gathering, the four leaders and their deputies, their medicine cats, and a couple warriors and apprentices from each Clan. Fallowfur watched the Clans’ apprentices as they joined together in a happy crowd, and the ThunderClan deputy felt a sad nostalgia for her own apprenticeship. She missed how nervous she’d been, pressed into her sister’s flank and meeting Pigeonpaw, the cocky ThunderClan apprentice. Now, Heatherpaw and Fogpaw from RiverClan were very animated, and Frostpaw, Thriftpaw, Darkpaw, and Marigoldpaw were mewing and purring in response. RiverClan would be sharing good news it seemed.

Fallowfur let her eyes trail over the rest of the small group, spying Eveningpelt speaking with Russettail and Rowanberry from ShadowClan. The deputy recalled the black she-cat coming into the ThunderClan camp with heartbroken eyes a half-moon ago, and she felt a pang of anxiety. Deerstar would have to be announcing tonight that Mintpelt was dead, but Fallowfur was sure that most of the Clans knew by now, at least all the medicine cats did. Hopheart, Mallowface, Lampreypelt, and Whitepaw were crouched near each other but none were speaking and there was a cold distance between them as well. Even Whitepaw was keeping space between him and his mentor.

To the she-cat’s left, the three other deputies were speaking pleasantly to each other. Spiderfoot and Briarfur were at least, though Waspclaw seemed to be listening, yet his eyes also appeared far away. She recalled that Mintpelt and Waspclaw had grown up together, starting their training at the same time until Mintpelt took the path to herbs instead.

Sunstar and Deerstar hadn’t yet acknowledged each other, though this wasn’t new, and Rookstar took the lead and leaped onto the lower branch of the tree, a hush falling over the Gathering as Sunstar, Mudstar, and Deerstar followed closely behind.

“ShadowClan’s prey is running well, this greenleaf is treating us kindly. Slugwhisker has given us three new mouths to feed as well!” Rookstar smiled with pride, tail high, as the crowd mewed it’s congratulations. The other leaders dipped their heads to the black she-cat, and murmured their own respects.

Mudstar stood as Rookstar settled back. “RiverClan is growing strong again after our recent bout against whitecough, Mallowface has always treated our Clan with the most wisdom I could ever ask of a medicine cat. StarClan chose wisely when they set him on his path. We’ve also had an apprentice excel in his assessment, and we welcome Skipstep as a full warrior under StarClan. May they light his path as well.” A cheer rose amongst the Clans, the amber-eyed tom lashed his tail with pride and puffed his chest out. A warrior’s celebration was felt best with a chin held high, and the tabby had never been shy.

“ThunderClan is thriving,” Sunstar was speaking now. “We have no fun announcements, but we’d like to warn that we’ve scented fox near our borders.” A low hum shifted around but was quickly silenced as WindClan’s leader stayed crouched while Sunstar backed off to give her the focus.

Silence deafened the crowd and Fallowfur found she was holding her breath. Deerstar remained still for far too many heartbeats and Fallowfur glanced at Waspclaw, whose eyes were so tightly closed he might have been silently praying to StarClan or as if he was expecting a cat to cuff him over the head like he was still a kitten. When the deputy lifted her gaze back up, Deerstar had stood and was staring at the moon, as if searching for something there. The dark brown she-cat looked pitch black from here, cast all in shadow except for her yellow eyes, bright as the stars in Silverpelt, and Fallowfur saw a glint of white—Deerstar’s claws, digging into the bark as if she was afraid she’d fall. Or as if a foe were under her feet.

“WindClan has sad news, though we remain strong as ever.” Her voice was soft, practically a whisper, and Fallowfur could sense the warriors in the clearing straining to hear. “Our medicine cat-“ The leader’s voice cracked, and Fallowfur felt her own heart pang with empathy. “Mintpelt, our medicine cat, is sharing tongues with StarClan now.”

“No.”

Fallowfur’s fur rippled with shock as Whitepaw stood and faced the WindClan leader. He was far braver than any warrior had a right to be, but the medicine cat apprentice held his ground under the full force of the Gathering’s attention.

The silence tore through the night, and the brown-pelted deputy glanced at the stars. Not a cloud in sight. Deerstar was suddenly nose-to-nose with Whitepaw. Hopheart was at his side.

“What did you say?” The leader’s voice was colder than ice, every word measured with venom, and Fallowfur bounded forward, hoping to at least dissuade Deerstar from possibly attacking a medicine cat apprentice if a deputy was in sight.

“_No_. Mintpelt isn’t with StarClan. A cat-“ the white tom rose his voice over the WindClan she-cat’s snarl. “-especially a medicine cat, who kills themself, does not go to StarClan.”

Fallowfur lunged forward when she saw Deerstar‘s muscles ripple with fury and claws flash in the moonlight. The two she-cats rolled in the soft grass, snarling and hissing, claws ripping fur, and Fallowfur felt a scratch on her nose and muzzle and tasted blood as she managed to shove Deerstar away from her. Somehow, she’d managed to keep herself between the medicine cat apprentice and the WindClan warrior. Anxiety and fear-scents lanced through the crowd, all of the warriors bunched into their respective Clans. The leaders were calling for peace but Deerstar snarled and stalked back to her warriors, lashing her tail as she led them out of the clearing.

Somehow, Lampreypelt’s yowl brought everyone to look up at the moon, bringing even WindClan to a pause.

No clouds had come to hide the moon.

Was it true then, what Whitepaw had said? That Mintpelt _wasn’t_ with StarClan?

And did he really mean that, that Mintpelt had killed himself on _purpose_?


	4. Chapter Two

"And he just said that?" They were curled together beside the lake, fluffy red tabby fur with soft white-and-orange, their contrasting tails twined together, sharing tongues under the moonlight. It was the night after the eventful Gathering, and Redthroat was filled with anxiety, Kitty could feel it. The two had heard all about the tragedy that morning from Rowanberry while they'd broken their fast, and it had been bothering Redthroat all day, though they'd waited until now to really speak about it. "With his own mouth?"

Redthroat purred a laugh and pushed Kitty’s cheek away with her nose, and then rested her chin across the other she-cat’s shoulders with a sigh. “Yeah,”—Kitty decided she loved the feeling of her speaking, just as much as she loved hearing her speak at all—“this apprentice, barely a paw, really, stood nose-to-nose with Deerstar, and basically begged her to claw his eyes out. And he didn’t even flinch when she lunged at him. Thankfully, Fallowfur fought her off.”

Kitty thought about it. What would she have done if facing a cat with nine lives that had a savage group of cats behind them, ready to fight for them at just a word. She was sure she would have had her claws out, but other than that... She doubted her courage would last her very long. “Tough kit, then. Maybe your StarClan was speaking through him, giving him that bravery.” The kittypet raised her eyes to the stars and studied them as companionable quiet settled like an old friend. Were Redthroat’s ancestors really up there? Her mother and father and brother, the ones she heard so little about? She knew that her own family wouldn’t be up there, mainly because they were all most likely still alive, but even when their times did run out, would they find their way to Kitty?

She absently wondered if her family would be proud of where she was, the path she was following. Tonight was the night; she’d go back to the loud-woman the following evening, say her final goodbyes from afar to ensure the twoleg wouldn’t try to trap her inside, and come live with Redthroat for good. She rasped her tongue across her mate’s shoulder a few more slow times, felt the tabby’s breathing even out into calm sleep, and watched the stars for a while more, looking for maybe a brighter flicker of light, wishing for Mintpelt to be up there despite what Whitepaw had said. Surely a medicine cat, above all, deserved a star all to himself, no matter if he joined a Clan or not, no matter what circumstance brought him there.

― ― ―

The white tomcat disliked the moorland, his heavy pelt picked up every seed and stray grass stem it seemed, and though the grass was tall enough here to shelter him from the sun unlike in RiverClan’s marshes, the humidity seemed to prefer sticking to his every step here. He also constantly worried he would get lost, and if it wasn’t for the thin, winding path, was sure he’d never be able to get his bearings. Thankfully, Deerstar had promised to have an escort waiting for him every dawn for the next moon until he learned their pathways. This morning it was a duo, Shadowclaw and her apprentice, and Mallowface found himself acutely aware of how they slipped along the path as easily as a fish along a smooth current. He chuckled when he realized he was the fish, out of his stream.

“So do you actually swim? Like, for fun?” It was the tabby apprentice, Marigoldpaw. The red tom had paused on the path, looking over his shoulder at the white medicine cat.

Mrowing a laugh at the coincidence of their thoughts, Mallowface nodded at him and reminisced aloud, “They say that the more fur you have, the better you float.”

“Then you must float right out of the water!” The young cat exclaimed, tail raised high as he bounded to catch up to his mentor, repeating Mallowface’s words but stated more as a fact than a kit’s tale. The tom must have been made an apprentice only within the last moon or so, he was small and had so much energy. The older tom was jealous for a heartbeat for that youthful exuberance, and that blatant trust that what someone said was the truth, to be taken at face-value. Shadowclaw was smiling fondly at her trainee and he beamed at her.

They made it back to the camp slower than Mallowface recalled his visits beforehand, but he supposed it was more because he’d been lost in his own head most of the way before and this time he was focusing on memorizing the path. They crested the hill and the sloping valley below them was outfitted into a sprawling, spacious camp. There was no obvious place for a Clan meeting, but there were bushes where it appeared they’d been reinforced for dens, though the nests were outside. Mallowface smiled with sad fondness. Mintpelt had often teased that WindClan was the closest to StarClan, as they all slept under the stars every night possible.

Marigoldpaw had leaped off to sneak attack a cat of similar size, another apprentice, and the two were loudly brawling across the camp. Two warriors simply watched, Eveningpelt and Waspclaw, and they greeted Mallowface and Shadowclaw only with nods.

The white tom trotted towards where he knew that Mintpelt had made his own workplace, the scent of tansy and lavender and chamomile was noticeable even outside the den. It was a settlement of bushes with a spacious clearing in the center, the roof made up of thick, tightly-woven brambles that shaded the inside almost protectively. It was cool yet still stuffy inside. Three shallow nests were dug along the farthest wall, the darkest parts of the den; whoever had built up WindClan’s medicine cat den had clearly planned ahead for long stays.

Mallowface moved to the right and gently lifted a stone the length of Marigoldpaw’s body, though it was flat. Underneath was a hollow in the ground filled with countless herbs and plants. There were two more flat stones hiding the same secretive storage places beside the one that Mallowface had lifted. Hopheart’s scent was stale but it overlapped Mintpelt’s, and Mallowface was not surprised she’d come first.

Mallowface sat back and sniffed some more around the den. There was no trace of Whitepaw and he flicked his tailtip with approval. It served the apprentice right to not be allowed here, after he dug bile into Deerstar’s fresh and grieving wounds the night before. Shaking his pelt out, the tom got to work, finding the herbs that were going bad, taking inventory, and occasionally glancing over at the small, hidden nest that was tucked tight under a bush, separate from the sick-nests.

Mintpelt’s.

RiverClan’s medicine cat was close to none of the others, was lost in his own head too often to make friendships with mostly anyone, and tended to prefer solitude to companionship even within his own Clan. But Mintpelt had been kind, friendly if not quiet, and agreeable. He was quick, made a good joke even when the others were arguing and seemed to just _ know_ how to de-escalate situations. Where Deerstar was ferocious and more than willing to start a fight, her medicine cat had been the calm of her storm, and the two of them and Waspclaw were basically siblings.

_ “Yeah... Ever since she left, Deersnake and Waspclaw have been inseparable. And now, they just follow me around while I’m doing my gathering and just being mouse-brained warriors. Almost like we’re still apprentices.” The grey-and-white tom smiled as he batted the mouse to Hoppaw. Darkcloud, Lampreypelt, and Mallowface were all crouched just tail-lengths away from the Moonpool, enjoying the cool night. It was Hoppaw’s first half-moon as an apprentice, and the young cat‘s belly had started rumbling when they’d all awoken from their dreams. Mintpelt, being the medicine cat for WindClan, had offered to hunt for the apprentice to celebrate, seeing as it was his territory._

_ Darkcloud was shifting his paws like he wanted to say something but Lampreypelt spoke first. “Losing a sibling in any way is hard, and being made a warrior the very next morning without her? I’m not surprised Deersnake is leaning on you and Waspclaw. Abandonment feels a lot like death to some cats.” _

_ Mallowface drifted out of the conversation as he let his own thoughts wander, studying the cats around him without listening. Hoppaw was very pretty, tan fur with dark, almost black stripes on her legs and face, her tail gently shaded upwards to a dark brown ending with a sharp contrast of white, her white front paws so broad that she could easily be a good swimmer. Her mentor, Darkcloud, was a black tom with white reaching up between his eyes to his forehead and down his muzzle, chest, and underbelly. He was gruff but patient, especially with his new apprentice. ShadowClan’s medicine cat was cinnamon-pelted and his dark amber eyes always seemed to be smiling. He was outspoken, friendly to a fault, and loved to talk to everyone. Even as an apprentice, it was like he didn’t even know what nervousness was. Mallowface mused about what a lamprey might be. _

_ Mintpelt lived up to his name. The scent was strong and pleasant, almost cold to the nose, as minty as if he had the leaves woven into his pelt somehow. His body was slim, ears small on a narrow face, paws almost dainty, and even though his raindrop-blue eyes seemed so impossibly sad, his smile always reached them, as if he was secretly mourning and enjoying every moment at the exact same time. _

“Mallowface?”

The tom lifted his head. He’d been laying down with his chin between his paws. Deerstar was standing several pawsteps behind him, as if afraid to come closer. He sighed. Mintpelt had left a hole bigger than any Mallowface had ever healed before. Pushing to his paws, he turned to the WindClan leader. “My apologies. I was just...” The white tom could almost smell the mint from the nest still as he met her eyes. “Remembering.”

― ― ―

ThunderClan was enjoying the warm day, though the humidity was only rising still. Light rains occurred as often as prey was brought back to the camp, and prey was running well around the entire lake. The deputy was stretched out just outside the medicine cat’s den, listening to Hopheart and Whitepaw discuss which herbs did what while she dipped a paw absently and bemusedly into a small puddle.

“Whitepaw.” There had been a moment of quiet, and Hopheart’s voice was laced with impatience. This was the third time the she-cat had had to get her apprentice’s attention.

“Borage. Milk.” The tom’s voice was cold and short.

Another pause and Fallowfur wondered if the she-cat had nodded. Hopheart was so gentle with Sunstar’s son. Whitepaw had followed the pretty she-cat around since he’d begun to walk and he learned the medicines so quickly. He’d never questioned where he wanted to be in his life, but he was rash and brusque and Fallowfur wondered if he would ever learn from Hopheart that softness and a kind word often went farther than poppy seeds to ease pains.

“Listen.” Hopheart was speaking quietly now, and Fallowfur shifted to sit more on her elbows to hear better, rasping a tongue over her toes to dry them. “I know that Mintpelt’s death shocked you, it shocked us all, but we must move-“

“I have _ nothing_ to move on from! Mintpelt killed himself, we saw his nest. The berries were right there, on his breath and in his paws, and there was no-”

“Whitepaw!” Fallowfur felt her pelt ripple as the she-cat’s voice rose almost to a yell. The brown she-cat had never heard the medicine cat sound so furious, hadn’t really thought it possible. Her voice was quieter now, but still angry. “A death is a  _ death_. StarClan would never refuse a medicine cat to join them if they led a life as peacefully and rightfully as Mintpelt did. We are allowed to grieve for him, and your behaviour at the Gathering is why you’re not going to the meeting tonight. I want you there so you might learn to be a decent cat, but your father has decided you’re to clean the elders’ den. There’s nobody in it right now, so you have all night to finish. Sort the rest of these herbs, I need fresh air.”

Fallowfur stood as Hopheart stalked out of the den, her tailtip twitching and head low. Whitepaw remained inside, most likely shocked into silence by the gentle cat’s outburst. The deputy was tempted to go and speak with the light-pelted healer, to comfort and reassure her, but saw Pigeonpelt and Miststone enter the camp. Her heart ached seeing the two of them, and she curled her tail around her paws tightly. The two grey cats were pressed flank to flank, tails twined, and Pigeonpelt looked up from his mate and made eye contact with Fallowfur, who forced herself to hold his gaze. She was sure he could read every ounce of pain in her yellow eyes, but his focus quickly went back to the pretty she-cat and he laughed.

The deputy stood and trotted out of the camp, suddenly needing space of her own. Her mind whirled through memories of her apprenticeship, of the breeze she missed through her fur, of how rabbit tasted after it was chased across borders and there was nobody there to catch her do it.

Of meeting Pigeonpaw.

The tom at the Gathering had been stereotypical ThunderClan. Bold, assumed everyone liked him, thought his opinions were most important, and his sister never agreed with anything he said. Their rivalry was infectious and friendly, and Fallowfur remembered joining their challenges and every moon debating who won. Pigeonpaw always did in his mind, and Fallowpaw and Swiftpaw had resorted to rolling their eyes at him and not bothering to argue.

The sound of a stream pulled Fallowfur out of her thoughts and she blinked at the happily flowing border. Hornetstripe, Juniperpaw, and Lilynose were bounding out of sight and Fallowfur padded heavily to the pebbly bank. She crouched and took a drink, her eyes wistful as she looked at the waving grass. She could feel the breeze here, though it wasn’t the same, and birds sang with joy and carelessness behind her.

She wondered how Waspclaw was handling Mintpelt’s death, and whether Deerstar would ever forgive Whitepaw. Probably not, the WindClan leader held a grudge longer than thorns held fur. StarClan would come down in full force and walk on two paws before Deerstar learned what forgiveness was.

“You know, many in the Clan questioned why I made you deputy. I do hope that you’re not one of them.”

The she-cat jerked at the voice behind her, and gave a self-conscious laugh. Maybe she did wonder  _ why her_, out of all the cats far more deserving. The tom was smaller than her, his pelt ginger and striped except for a white muzzle and paws, but he was the biggest influence in her life, indescribable, and sometimes she thought he could reach up and pluck the stars out of the midnight sky if he wished to. She could see some grey hairs near his chin; he was getting older and it frightened her. One day, he’d pick a star for himself and leave her. Sunstar sat down beside her and lay his tail on top of hers for just one comforting heartbeat, like he knew where her thoughts had drifted, before wrapping it around his paws.

“Swiftleg would have been a good choice, sure, or even Tallflower, but she’d never do good with waking up early. StarClan said you were the only  right one, though. And we see who is still here now.” Fallowfur watched her leader and mentor, but his eyes were on the moors in front of them. His voice was slow, thoughtful, as it always was. ThunderClan's leader never spoke unless he knew exactly what he intended seasons before his mouth opened. “StarClan said _ you_. When Tallflower died, do you know what she said?”

“No. I wasn’t there.” She’d been on patrol that morning. Sunstar’s mate had gotten greencough in the middle of a Greenleaf that was like any other, and Hoppaw and Darkcloud had done everything, but their catmint stores were running low. Fallowfur and Pigeonpelt had returned ahead of their patrol, heated from yet another argument, leaving Swiftleg and Mistpaw behind, to see Sunstar and the other warriors holding a vigil over the expectant queen. Swiftleg and Darkcloud came down with the illness the following dawn. That season had been the hardest Fallowfur could remember, all of the Clans had lost so many cats. Every cough had cats cringing still.

Sunstar finally turned his head to her. “She said I made the wrong choice. Used her last breaths to tell me that Swiftleg deserved it far more than you ever will, that even Pigeonpelt would be a better decision. What you did at the Gathering, saving Whitepaw from Deerstar, I thank you.” He stood and touched his nose to her forehead before taking a few steps back towards his treeline, voice quiet as he faced away from her. “But being instinctually heroic doesn’t wash away the past, Fallowfur. I know where your loyalty lies, and I trust StarClan’s wisdom in showing me you were the right choice.”

“Thank you, Sunstar.” She smiled and dipped her head to him, standing.

“But this feud you have with Deerstar  _ must end_. I will not see my Clan go to war over a situation that should have ended seasons ago.”


	5. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are to my muse as coffee is to my morning! Now that we've met all of the characters, who's your favourite to read so far?

It was dusk, the strange space in time between day and night, and the forest was hushed. The birds were trading posts, sentinels at the world’s most musical job, the lull in their almost constant song allowing white noise to accompany the patrol’s pawsteps. Fallowfur loved dusk most of all times of day, when all of ThunderClan settled in to share tongues and eat before the sun fully set, and she had taken the evening patrol herself this day. Behind the light brown she-cat padded two tabbies and a white-and-orange she-cat between them. Starlingthroat and Blackblaze were mewing good-naturedly to each other over the apprentice’s head while Firepaw listened with the kind of awe that only a child who adored her mentor would have.

“So how’s being a warrior for you?” The curly-coated tom mewed to change the topic off his relationship with Sootpelt, Blackblaze’s sister.

“It’s just as I thought, really.” Blackblaze’s golden eyes were laughing as he added ruefully, “Same duties as an apprentice, except now you can do them alone.”

Fallowfur and Starlingthroat laughed with the tom while Firepaw adamantly disagreed. Blackblaze had been made a warrior many moons ago, before Firepaw and her brothers had even been brought into the Clan, but everyone loved to tease him. The jovial tom didn’t mind, apparently, and Fallowfur flicked his nose with her tailtip.

“Be careful what you say, I might decide the elders’ den needs cleaning, Blackblaze-_paw_.” Blackblaze yowled in mock terror and Firepaw finally got her own laugh in alongside her mentor.

The she-cat’s hintedly spotted pelt suddenly pricked and she paused.

“Is that blood?” Starlingthroat voiced her thoughts. She glanced at him and he lay his tail across his apprentice’s shoulders to keep her in place, and Fallowfur nodded.

Blackblaze moved to her side and murmured, “That’s cat scent... A loner?” They were close to the abandoned twoleg nest, it would make sense.

Fallowfur was quiet as she crouched and slunk closer to the scent, the young warrior matching her step-for-step. Getting closer, she thought at first it was a rabbit, fur white as snow except for some forest floor debris on the body’s neck and shoulders. She scanned the surrounding area for the predator, a kill this fresh should have its killer nearby at the very least. But the scent...

“No.” She mewed, suddenly lunging forward and prodding the tom’s shoulder with a paw. “No no no, StarClan, _no_!” The tom’s mouth was open, blood trickling out, still warm, green eyes dull and staring at the trees around him with bloody tears. His nose and ears had thin red lines as well. He was laying on his belly, as if he’d been crouched to pounce on prey.

“Firepaw, wait!” The apprentice ignored Starlingthroat’s warning and bounded to her littermate’s side, slamming into Fallowfur’s side so hard that the deputy, already stunned and in shock, lost her balance and stumbled. Crouching, she was now face-to-face with Whitepaw as Firepaw wailed.

“Wake up! Wake up, Whitepaw, please StarClan, _wake up_!”

― ― ―

Fallowfur’s claws were slashing the earth, the moon high above her. At her left and with pain and hatred on his face, Sunstar trotted across the moorland with so much determination, the tan she-cat could almost feel every one of his pawsteps jolting her own. A soft rain was beginning, and the cats swarmed behind her like a silent, furious flood of fur. Even now, the air felt like water was filling her lungs.

They formed a shadowy line halfway encircling the WindClan camp, looking down at the sleeping circle of felines. Clouds filled the sky and momentarily blocked the moon, casting the warriors in pitch as their leader’s tailtip twitched. He snarled as he led the charge. Whatever reservation he’d had early about attacking was washed away now.

The WindClan cats had no chance to ready themselves for defense, and shock and fear could be heard as Fallowfur leaped and landed on top of a warrior.

“Fox-heart!” Eveningpelt snarled as the two rolled across the clearing. Screeches, snarls, and yowls echoed in the darkness and the ThunderClan deputy dug her claws into the slender silver tabby’s shoulders, aiming a vicious bite to the warrior’s foreleg. The tabby’s claws dug into Fallowfur’s stomach and she shoved away, smelling blood. _Wake up! Whitepaw, please..._ Pain and grief lanced through the deputy and she yowled at the warrior as she lunged forward. Eveningpelt lifted onto her back paws and the two tumbled head over tail.

_ “This is Deerstar, her claws are so deep into revenge that she would kill and we all know it! You saw her attack Whitepaw!” Pigeonpelt yowled, and Miststone, standing and lashing her tail, rose her voice to agree with him. Firepaw and Frostpaw were sitting leaning into each other, tails twined, eyes wide as they listened. Fallowfur crouched just below Sunstar on the High-ledge, and the tom was staring at the sky, like the stars were turning against him. Starlingthroat, Blackblaze, and Sootpelt nodded and mewed similarly._

_ “Silence.” His tail was lashing slowly, his claws extended. She could hear the scrape now, the warriors obediently hushed, and it felt like it was on her own nerves and not the stone._

_ She remained quiet for a heartbeat but a sudden spasm of fury ricocheted through her and she lurched to her feet. “No! We cannot be silent. Pigeonpelt—” She glanced at the tom and took a deep breath, unable to believe the words were coming from her own throat. “—is right. Deerstar has always been cold and cruel, and Mintpelt was the only one who could talk reason into her. With him gone,” Fallowfur lifted her eyes to her leader, her mentor, the only cat who had ever believed in her and supported her, and the tom was watching her with eyes that were seeing ghosts and not her. “She has nothing to lose now, and I would never put anything past her.”_

_ Yowls of approval filled the camp, and she leaped down to be among her Clan, looking them all in the eyes, falling last to the yellow eyes of her beloved. She turned back to her leader, watched him stand, watched as the russet-furred tom’s pelt was darkened by the shadows setting around them. He finally looked his age entirely. It took him several moments to pick his way down the High-ledge, and every pawstep seemed as if the entirety of Silverpelt rested on his shoulders alone. He stopped when he was a breath away from Fallowfur. She straightened and met her leader with her full height. The tom had to look up to meet her gaze, but she felt small._

_ “Tell me this isn’t personal.”_

_ She felt tears well in her eyes and found her voice suddenly choked out of her, but she held his witheringly intense amber eyes._

_ “She killed Whitepaw.”_

_ The gathered cats turned their heads to see the beautiful she-cat padding slowly out of her den towards the two. Hopheart brushed past Fallowfur gently and dipped her head to Sunstar, speaking towards his paws. “She killed him, and you’re worried about petty squabbles?” She turned her pale green eyes to the rest of the group._

_ “This is as personal as it gets, we cannot let this slide. He was a medicine cat! An _apprentice_! And he is _dead_.” The medicine cat, always gentle, always level-headed, kind and loving and patient, turned wide, despairing eyes to her leader. “Avenge him.”_

― ― ―

“I can’t thank you enough.”

Kitty lifted her head and blinked sleep from her eyes. Yawning, she stretched and stood, glancing around her at the almost empty den. Only Spiderfoot was in her nest, and she was blinking exhausted hazel eyes at the kittypet-warrior. Flicking her ears, the deputy lay her head back down, apparently deciding it was not her problem, and Kitty rolled her eyes. Spiderfoot was always asleep these days it seemed. At one point, Kitty had thought the deputy an unstoppable, untirable force for the Clan. Rookstar’s second-in-command was never seen dozing, but these last two days had the she-cat put to bedrest. Kitty padded out of the warriors’ den to see a mostly empty camp, as well.

“It’s nothing, Hopheart, but can you please tell me why you need more of these?” Lampreypelt was sitting beside a very pretty she-cat, one that Kitty had never seen before, and her scent was strong. Sand, forest-y but it wasn’t pine, and something else, she couldn’t decide if it was squirrel or vole, but it was earthy. Between the two of them was a big bundle of what looked like sticks and purple flower-buds on a big, flat leaf.

The she-cat seemed to hesitate, eyes flickering around the camp. The cat’s green eyes, pale enough to almost be yellow, found Kitty’s hazel gaze, and it almost was if emotion drained out of the cat. The stranger stood and mewed a quiet thanks before picking up the bundle.

Lampreypelt stood as well, sputtering, “Hop- wait!” But the she-cat was gone.

Kitty padded to the tom’s side and sniffed. “Who was that?”

The dark ginger tabby glanced at her and sighed, turning around and walking to his den. The tom was usually very friendly, and she wished for company, but she could tell he wasn’t in the mood for conversation. She followed anyway, wanting an answer. The tom reached the entrance to the hidden clearing and growled, “Don’t you have anything else to do, kittypet?”

“Hmm... no, not really. I’m not allowed to leave camp without a warrior, remember?”

Lampreypelt curled his lip and heaved a deep sigh. “Fine. That was Hopheart, ThunderClan’s medicine cat.” When he ducked into his bramble thicket den, she followed after briefly pausing outside. She disliked being annoying, but she disliked being alone far more.

Inside, the bramble walls gave way to space and a pine-needle covered sandy floor. Above, the sky was clearly visible, a rare feat for a pine forest as densely wooded as ShadowClan’s territory was. Lampreypelt had moved to where herbs and other objects were scattered on the floor, and he used two claws to pick each apart into neatly sorted piles. The she-cat settled with her front paws tucked neatly under her chest, watching. It intrigued her, thinking about how he knew all of the herbs’ names and what they did and he just... _remembered_ it all.

She was beginning to enjoy the quiet when the tom mewed, “Has Rookstar mentioned when she’ll give you a name?”

She tilted her head. _A name?_ She had one, but maybe he’d forgotten it somehow. “Its Kitty.”

Lampreypelt looked at her like she had two heads and she narrowed her eyes, gently concerned. What was wrong with her name? She sat up and licked her chest fur self-consciously. “What’s wrong with Kitty?”

“Nothing, it’s just... I guess it’s just as if a queen named her kit Kitten, or if I was called Tomcat, or if Redthroat was called She-cat. It only says _what_ you are, it doesn’t make you stand out as an individual.” The tom’s voice was less stressed now, as if messing with the flowers and leaves had calmed him.

Kitty shrugged. “I never thought about it like that, it’s just what the twoleg called me. Kitty-Kitty.”

“At least you only go by one then.” The tom chuckled. Finally, the quiet that settled around them was friendlier, and the she-cat pushed her back legs out to the side to relax as she lay back down, watching the tom work. He wasn’t rushing, every motion slow and careful, and she noticed he set some things aside. A black seed that looked decidedly shriveled, a brown leaf that no longer had flexibility to it and crackled dust when set aside. The morning passed and Kitty daydreamed about one day knowing what the seeds were called.

Voices rose amiably in the camp outside the medicine cat clearing, and Kitty rolled onto her back, lifting her paws in the air, waving them and stretching her claws. “What did Hopheart take from you earlier?”

Lampreypelt got a worried look on his face and his tailtip twitched. “It was comfrey, and burdock root.” He looked around his space as if looking for something and then murmured, “She wouldn’t tell me why, only said she’d run out and there was no more on her territory, which is strange.”

He was quiet for a long moment and Kitty sat up. “Why’s that?”

“Well...” He scuffed the ground under his feet and looked at the she-cat with realization dawning on his face. “It grows mostly in ThunderClan territory, really. And those two things are for wounds.”

“Some cat must have a bad splinter, maybe.” Her ear flicked as she heard her name called from behind her. A smile brightened her face. “Thanks for letting me sit with you, Lam-Lam, I’ll see you around!”

She bounded out of the den and purred as she saw Redthroat near the entrance of the camp, about to slip past the boulder to leave. The red tabby smiled at Kitty and disappeared, the white she-cat laughing as she raced after her into the pine woods, the earlier conversation now forgotten. Inside the medicine cat den, the tom was quietly piecing together the puzzle, and dread filled him with icy claws.


End file.
